Down on the Farm 2

Davey appeared in the high street on the farm, fully armoured and looking for a fight. There was none to be had but the presence of a fully armoured human being in the carefully climate controlled farm triggered every kind of alarm and within seconds ( a long time of machine debate and calculation ) a sentry AI appeared in the street alongside him. Davey watched as the humans on the farm scattered and fled as their perception of the real world was turned upside down in seconds. One minute, their soft repetitive life was the same as all their yesterdays, the next there was an armoured warrior facing off against an animated machine bristling with weapons. The fight was quick, Davey was highly skilled and the beam weaponry had no effect on his armour, within seconds the sentry AI was dying at his feet.

Copyright Faramond Frie © 2018

Advertisements

Down on the Farm

Davey had appeared in the middle of the human farm, a place to keep human beings so that they did not become extinct. The machines provided this fake environment out of programmed compassion but they did not feel it. They knew it was right, they had been programmed a long time ago with what was right and what was wrong and ensuring a species did not become extinct was right, even though it was not logical.

The human beings on the human farm lived their lives in ignorance, there was no real struggle and everything was provided. They were healthy but sick in their souls, they knew there was more to life but had no idea how much more there was, only the faint genetic memory of freedom and a vast multiverse that was now so distant, it was only a splinter in their minds.

Davey appeared in the high street on the farm, fully armoured and looking for a fight.

Copyright Faramond Frie © 2018

The Verse

The Verse, multiple dimensions, multiple time lines, multiple realities, and for multiple, read infinite. That’s a lot of possibilities and quite mind blowing for most beings who are content to exist in their little corner of what reality means to them. They have no interest in anything outside of their universe, uni…meaning one, because they have bills to pay, places to be, entertainment to consume, people to try and sleep with, birthday’s to organise, business to win and whatever else keeps them busy where they are.

For some though, a rare minority of mostly weird individuals though occasionally entire species, a single universe is not enough. These rare minorities have discovered through technology, through spirituality, through accident, guidance or simply being aware at birth, that there are in fact multiple every-things and that it is quite possible, with the right technology, spiritual atunement, natural gifts or the right friends, to cross between them all.

Some say that the Verse always was, always will be and always is, others say it was created by a Sci-Fi writer from Earth in the early 21st Century ( not me ) who was letting the creative spirit live through his pen and in the process, created everything. No one really knows the answers, even the weirdest of weirdos in the Verse but one thing is for sure, this particular story takes place within the Verse and this story is true. All realities are open, all times are available and all universes accessible and all of them have more in common than one might imagine, given an infinite variety of realities.

That means, everything that is being experienced right now, can change, if you have those friends, gifts or tech.

 

Copyright Faramond Frie © 2017

The Raven : 2

[ Bloomsbury– London Late 1800’s ]

I feel righteous fury as I land and roll,
ready myself and draw the antimony gun.
I tie off on leaded roof and leap once more into the void,
suspended for a moment in the rain
before snapping rope swings me back again.
I crash through the high window with sharded glass for company
high above the ritual most unholy.

As I fall toward them I laugh aloud,
for even the undead king looks up in shock
as I hammer feet first into his camphor shroud.
He all but explodes under the force,
and I bear the brunt through battered knees
as gravity takes its course.

His head rolls away attached by foul wrappings of
hells own making, I aim and fire!
The beam of holy purification lances out
and engulfs the Egyptian king’s head.
Cleansing flame will take him,
the dead should stay dead!

Spinning quick I see the scene, a mortal man
begins to scream, dressed in Hermetic robes, but just a man,
it matters not, to me he is worse than the hell I just put down,
worse than any demon.
Choosing evil for his own control and gain,
not simply led astray through human weakness,
in momentary shame.

And so I walk with dark purpose toward this man of power,
and put away my gun,
for I will make him taste human pain with human fists,
to remind him what he truly is,
just more human scum.

Wait! he cries, I have names and more!
I stop an inch away, Ravens face saying more than I can ever say.
He talks then and there about a threat to their order,
About a woman who wields magic,
a woman of unusual power.
The Mummy was to be her doom,
before she could bring their dark order to its knees,
they would kill her in this very room.

I go to work and leave him there,
bound by Gods law not to take a life,
and remembering that he has given me much this night.
He has given me a name!
Elyria Green.  Another witch
playing Satan’s endless game.
I’ll see her done or if it’s gods will,
see her cleansed with holy flame.

I leave him breathing and depart,
to find this witch,
with joy in my savage and god fearing heart!

Copyright Faramond Frie © 2015